


Her Boys

by ticktockclockwork



Series: The Life and Times of Tick the Tock [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 09:32:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ticktockclockwork/pseuds/ticktockclockwork





	Her Boys

Mrs. Hudson had known her boys for a very long time now. Both John and Sherlock had been living in 221B Baker street for going on three years and she liked to believe that she knew them well. She knew Sherlock kept human remains in the fridge and that John often got jam on his sweaters and always brought it down to her to fix. She knew they solved crimes together and that Sherlock enjoyed that far too much. She knew he had a less than agreeable relationship with his brother and that John worked at a clinic.

But there were also things she didn’t know. Like how John got rid of his cane. Or why Sherlock insisted on wearing that impractical coat. And above all, why they must always practice their martial arts at two in the morning. Because, really, slamming into walls at that time of night was just rude. Tonight was just such a night and Mrs. Hudson, in her bed, heard the tell tale signs of kung fu as her mirror rattled. She made a face and turned over while her boys presumably kicked the bullocks out of one another. What she didn’t know was that, while yes, they were slamming up against walls, it wasn’t for fighting.

Unless you count a fight for dominance.

“Sherlock!” John yelled, trying to stifle the sounds as Sherlock’s hand slid into his pants and wrapped around him tight. His voice was cut off as Sherlock put an arm to his throat and held it there.

“Do try and keep quiet John or we’ll wake the neighbors.” Sherlock grinned, flipping John around to press him face front into the wall. John grunted and growled but only half fought as Sherlock pushed his pants down and grabbed his bare ass. “If Mrs. Hudson doesn’t know what we’re doing then she really is going old.” John grunted again as Sherlock slipped a finger between his cheeks, the taller man grinning. “She knows. I’m sure of it.” Sherlock slipped that arm around John’s throat and pulled him back, making the man walk out of his clothes and towards their room, John;s hands coming up to hold onto Sherlock’s arm.

“You know I hate it when you get like this. All pushy and demanding. If you want to fuck me, just bloody well ask!” He snapped and halted to yank down Sherlock’s arm and shove him away. He then spun and grabbed Sherlock’s robe, quickly getting around him to shove him against the couch and bend him over the back. Sherlock moaned though tried to hide it as he let John look momentarily victorious. “Where’s the fun in that, John?”

Then, with those impossibly long arms, he reached back, grabbed the hem of John’s sleep shirt and yanked him forward so they both toppled over the couch. They landed hard on the ground, the coffee table acting as only a minute obstacle (after which Sherlock shoved it away) before Sherlock was pinning John down, knee between his legs adding delicious friction and hand roaming around in his robe pocket for the bottle of lube. “You came prepared?” John asked incredulously and without breath. “I’m always prepared.” Sherlock snorted before coating his fingers and reaching down.

It wasn’t even twenty minutes before he had John panting and sweaty, legs pitched up and head thrown back. They were still on the ground but somewhere in that time Sherlock had managed to gag his gorgeous roommate with the belt from his robe (so he’d shut up of course, they needn’t wake the neighbors) and had three fingers buried deep, those fingers crooking against John’s sweet spot. John was a goner, completely zoned out and enjoying every minute of this until Sherlock finally wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped in time with his fingers. John arched hard, eyes flying open and it only took a few pulls before he was moaning out Sherlock’s name in a muffled fashion and coming all over his stomach and Sherlock’s hand. When he’d come back down and the light had cleared from his eyes, he looked up to Sherlock’s smug expression and grinned. “You’re far too proud of yourself. We should fix that.” And then he lunged for his roommate, the other gawking out as the ‘fighting’ started once again.


End file.
